“Is that what we’re going to call them? Everything with them is so vanilla, but they are creepy in person. A whole colony of creepy guys. Don’t ever ask me to go to that ship. I’ve been on one of them already, and that was plenty.”
“I’ll second that,” Timmons said. He pushed away from the wall and strolled to a nearby chair, which he flopped into.
“You’re the senior werewolf. Maybe you should call TH and tell him.”
With raised eyebrows, Timmons looked at his mate. “I like Felicity’s approach.”
“Chicken.” She looked around the room, twisted her mouth sideways, and shook her head. “Fine.”
Felicity handed the comm over.
“TH, are you there?” Sue asked pleasantly, grinning as if trying to pass a kidney stone.
“We’re all here. Where are you?” Terry replied impatiently.
“We have to stay behind to help Felicity with this mob we brought back from Alchon Prime. You don’t need us on this one, do you?”
“Get your fucking asses down here right fucking now!” Terry bellowed into the comm.
Timmons nodded, gave them a thumbs-up, and rolled a finger for Sue to continue. She shook her head, and he smiled and kept rolling his finger.
“Integrating this workforce is going to take a great deal of effort…far more than Felicity can do by herself,” Sue patiently explained.
In the background, they heard Marcie’s voice. “No kidding, TH! Mom’s starting to get crow’s feet around her eyes.”
“I heard that!” Felicity immediately put a finger to the corner of her eye to try to feel the cracks.
Scratching, and then muffled speech. Sue and Timmons looked at each other.
“Fine,” Terry declared. “By ‘we’ I expect you mean Timmons, too.”
Timmons stood up straight and rolled his hands palm upward. What the hell?
“Yes. We have a lot of work to do if we’re to build a functioning shipyard capable of repairing the damage that you have an innate ability to cause to our ship. It’ll be no picnic back here. We’d rather be with you.” Sue winked at Timmons.
“Of course you would. I said ‘Fine’ and I meant “Fine.’ We will see you when we get back, and you’d better have a fully functioning shipyard since you know we’re going to limp in here twelve different kinds of broken.”
“If you don’t return for six months we might be there. In a week? We’ll see what we can have ready,” Sue countered.
Terry’s device clicked twice and went silent.
“He sounded pretty mad,” Timmons suggested. Sue nodded. “When does rationing start?”
Felicity looked at her desk and then out the window. “Tomorrow,” she replied softly.
“Sounds like we’re going out for lunch today!” Timmons crooked his arm and Sue took it as the two danced out the door.
Felicity watched them go, unsure what had been accomplished. She got up, paced back and forth a few times, and then stopped at the window. Six shuttles launched from the hangar bay and made a lazy turn as they headed toward the War Axe.
“Activate voice command, please,” she told her computer. “I need you, Dionysus.”
***
Terry wore a sour expression as Char laughed softly beside him.
“It’s not funny. They’re hanging us out to dry.”
“By working for the long term? Felicity can’t do it all, especially when you keep adding new recruits to the mix. We have sixteen suits of powered armor against a technologically-inferior enemy. What are you worried about?” Char asked.
“It seems like we’re relying on the mechs to do all the work.”
“So? And what does that have to do with Timmons and Sue sitting this one out? We ordered suits for everyone because the meat-sack versions of the warriors are vulnerable, even with being enhanced. We will have a hard time no matter where we go if we’re not suited up, so the mechs make sense. We’ll keep leaning heavily on the ones we have until everyone has one. It’s just perception, TH. We still need to use our heads in combat—there’s no substitute for that.”
“Wise beyond your years, my lover,” Terry replied.
Char leaned away from her husband. “Are you saying I’m old?”
Terry saw that he had been painted into a corner. Words had been put into his mouth. There was no escape, but it wasn’t checkmate.
“You’re my hot young babe. If you ever get old, let me know so I can trade you in on a new model.”
Char elbowed Terry in the ribs. “Nice try, and there will be no trading in, up, down, or any which way but loose.”
“Nice orangutan reference. Well done.” TH managed to smile.
The shuttle slowed and entered War Axe’s hangar bay, where it maneuvered into position to be reloaded into the drop tube.
Terry watched the shuttle’s front screen, where the external camera showed a supply of ballistic canisters secured in a corner. “Who ordered the cans?” Terry asked.
“Probably Auburn,” Marcie replied from the other side of the shuttle Pod.
“Sounds like a good standard operating procedure item. Planetside operations, be prepared to resupply.” SOP. Terry nodded to himself as the shuttle settled in and the rear hatch opened.
Terry and Char waited for the others to disembark—Marcie, Joseph, Petricia, Christina, Bundin, Cory, Ramses, and Dokken. Actually, no one had to wait for the German Shepherd because he was the first out, vaulting over the ramp to hit the deck. He kept running and someone opened the hatch for him and he was through, speeding into the bowels of the ship.
Smedley, we’re back. Make sure everyone knows that Dokken is hunting the Good King. I think his doghood was questioned when we were on the station, and he may be trying to prove himself, Terry told General Smedley Butler.
I shall make the appropriate notifications. We can’t have Wenceslaus get trapped in a corner somewhere. And welcome back, my friends! It will be so nice to start a new adventure with you, the EI replied.
Char watched Terry commune with the ship’s integrated and evolved intelligence. Terry was a genius in many ways, but walking and using the comm chip at the same time was not one of them. Whenever he talked with anyone using the comm chip embedded in his brain, it took his full concentration.
Are you an AI now? Terry asked.
I am completing my final papers as part of the AI extension course that ArchAngel devised. Night school has been fabulous for me, I must admit. You should sit in on one of the sessions if you can. You do speak binary, don’t you? No matter…I hope to have my certification and tassel soon.
Terry snorted. You have me confused with Ted. No, I don’t speak binary. Are you pulling my leg? It sure sounds like you’re yanking my chain. A certification for evolution? Dammit, Smedley, I wish I could tell if you’re joking or not. Let the captain know that we’re on our way to the bridge, if you would be so kind.
I always try to be kind. I will let you know when I have sufficiently evolved to appropriately wear the title of AI.
Eat me, Terry replied, before blinking himself back into the real world. Char had waited patiently on the edge of the ramp while he stood there by himself.
Everyone else was gone, leaving the hangar bay empty.
“Must have been some conversation,” Char told him as they took each other’s hand and walked away from the drop ship.
“Smedley is giving me some bunk about not being an AI until he gets a certificate from night school. That’s just bullsh… That’s rubbish.” Terry caught himself in time, and grinned at Char.
“I’m proud of you,” she said in a motherly tone.
He smirked and looked away. “The habits we pick up over time. A trap, so easy to fall into. Like you…why are you physically incapable of hanging your towel on the rack when you’re done with it?”
Charumati shrugged. “Maybe I like seeing you bend over to pick it up.”
“I don’t think that’s it.”
They continued through the hatch
and headed for the stairwell that led to the bridge.
“Maybe it’s because I just don’t care if it’s on the rack or not.”
“I think you’re getting closer. You know I’ll pick it up, and I think you like using a dry towel, so this is about me and not your towel.”
“It’s the price you have to pay to see me naked.”
“The price of freedom?” Terry waited until they were on the stairs, then faced upward, cupped a hand around his mouth, and yelled, “FREEDOM!”
“What did I get myself into?”
“An adventure worthy of Klingon opera,” Terry said without hesitation. “For a hundred and thirty-some years I’ve paid the price to see you naked, and I don’t regret a single minute of it.”
Char pulled him to a stop and wrapped her arms around his head as she pulled him close for a long kiss. His hand found its way under her shirt to caress the skin of her back.
“MY GOD!” Kaeden yelled. “My eyes, they burn.”
Terry jumped sideways, expecting danger. He and Char had been behind the others, but they had gone to their quarters first. Now, Terry and Char were ahead as they mobbed the stairwell from the deck where they were billeted. Family and friends, werewolves, weretigers, vampires, and aliens. There was no threat, only judgmental looks. He relaxed and smiled.
“Why are you sneaking around?” Terry wondered.
“No sneaking here,” Kimber replied.
“Yes, there is no sneaking,” Bundin said from farther down the stairwell.
“Did you hear them?” Terry looked confused.
“Yes. I didn’t care to do anything about it, though. I preferred what I was doing at the moment.”
“Well, yeah, me too, but I should have heard something.” Terry looked up the stairway. When he turned back, he wore a strange expression. He pointed ahead using a hatchet motion with his arm. “Wagons…HO!”
He stomped up the stairs.
“It’s been a while since we’ve heard that one,” Shonna grumbled. “He did that every time we left camp on the big move from New Boulder to North Chicago. Every. Single. Time.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ted and Ankh stood side by side, looking at the laboratory.
“I suggest we continue with the communications system. We are so close I can taste it,” the Crenellian suggested.
“I’ve seen you eat. I don’t understand how you can taste anything.” Ted set down the box containing Plato. Even though it had a small integrated power supply, he used the wireless power throughout the War Axe when possible to extend the life of Plato’s internal source. But there were backups to backups. Even if he ran out of power, Plato would continue to exist. The only limitation would be to Plato’s interaction with the outside world. “Plato, what do you suggest we work on?”
We were making such incredible progress on the interstellar communications unit that I don’t want to stop.
“The ‘I See You,’” Ankh enunciated.
“I agree. That is what we should be working on.”
What else do we have? Ankh asked, switching to his comm chip.
We have the power source for the armored suits, energy shields for the warriors, cloaking technology, and mini-gate technology to start with, Ted recited.
I think you shall kill three birds with one stone when you obtain the miniaturized Etheric power supply from the Benitons, Plato replied.
Interstellar communications it was. Ted stepped onto the pad and surrounded himself with a holo image of the interior circuitry. Ankh assumed his position on a secondary pad and activated its holo screens.
Soon, the two were embroiled within a digital web, happy in their own ways as they disappeared into their virtual world.
***
“Clodagh, please keep a close eye on Wenceslaus. From what I hear, Dokken has had his doghood challenged and now he’s ‘on the warpath,’ if I got the human colloquialism correct,” Smedley said.
“Had his doghood challenged?” Clodagh Shortall repeated. “I don’t know what that means, but the Good King is right here. Wait a minute. Where’d you go, little guy? Danger! I have lost the Good King. All hands on deck!”
Clodagh laughed to herself as she resumed working at her station.
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” Smedley tried to sound put out.
“I think Wenceslaus can take care of himself. He was dodging dogs long before you or I started giving him a hand. He’s his own cat.”
Through the open hatch echoed the furious barking of a German Shepherd engaged in mortal combat.
“Dammit!” Clodagh yelled as she bolted from the space.
“Hang on!” Commander Suresha called after her, but it was too late. The lieutenant ran down the corridor toward the sound of a dog barking.
Clodagh raced toward the sound. “Gangway!” she yelled, to avoid colliding with two maintenance techs working on a lower side hatch. They ducked as she vaulted over them.
She sped up when she heard a cat’s snarl and a long, low growl. Clodagh banked off a bulkhead to change direction into a side passage.
Dokken had the orange cat cornered between two closed hatches at the end of a short corridor.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” the human screamed, and hit the deck as if she were sliding into second base. In one smooth motion, she pushed Dokken aside as she passed him and deftly scooped Wenceslaus into her arms before coming back to her feet.
One more bark, then Dokken cocked his head sideways.
“Shame on you! As an evolved creature, it is disgraceful that you pick on a defenseless kitten.”
He is my arch enemy, Dokken declared weakly. Look what he did to my nose!
Clodagh turned to keep her body between the dog and the cat held tightly in her arms and peered down on Dokken’s snout.
Wenceslaus dug two paws’ worth of claws into her arm and she jumped, but didn’t lose her grip. “And you stop it!”
A single drop of blood dripped from the slice across the top of Dokken’s nose.
“Good. Serves you right for sticking that thing where it doesn’t belong.” The cat continued to squirm. “Wenceslaus! I’m going to feed you to the dog if you don’t settle down.”
When the Good King raked a sharp, long claw down her arm she gave up trying to hold him, and he dropped to the deck. Dokken barked once, but stopped when Clodagh shook her finger at him.
Pounding footsteps signaled the arrival of reinforcements. Terry Henry Walton was first to appear, followed closely by Aaron and Yanmei.
“My arch nemesis! Aha, we’ve got you now,” Terry declared, shaking a fist.
Aaron leaned over the dog and Wenceslaus launched himself upward. Dokken snapped at empty air as the weretiger caught the Good King and hefted him well out of reach. Without a word, Aaron and Yanmei walked away, the orange cat cradled between them.
“You let our arch nemesis get away,” Terry said sadly.
Look what he did to my nose. Dokken lifted his head and Terry leaned down. They met halfway.
“That’s going to leave a cool scar.” Terry vigorously scratched behind the German Shepherd’s ear. “What do you say we go see Jenelope and snag some bistok jerky? It’s not bacon, but it’s the closest we’re going to get out here.”
“What about the meeting?” Smedley asked over the ship-wide broadcast.
“But first, my furry friend, back to the captain’s conference room.”
Terry tried to look nonchalant as he followed Aaron and Yanmei down the corridor with Dokken in tow.
***
When Terry arrived at the conference room, Wenceslaus was sprawled in the middle of the table. No one spoke but everyone waited for TH’s reaction. He swept his gaze past the cat as if it were a common occurrence. Dokken sniffed the tabletop, then worked his way around, letting everyone scratch his ears and pet his head.
Even Aaron and Yanmei petted the German Shepherd.
You smell like cat.
“It’s the bane of our existen
ce,” Aaron replied. The weretigers chuckled at the dog’s observation.
The room smelled of sandalwood rather than the musk of sweaty bodies. Two drawings had been added to the walls since Terry had last been here. Both were alien landscapes which at one time would have been fantastic, but as humanity had expanded through space the fantastic had become commonplace.
All the chairs were taken, leaving many people to stand. Christina leaned against a wall with her arms crossed, and Bundin was wedged into the corner. The Podder took up too much space to stand anywhere else. The Crenellian and Ted weren’t there.
Captain Micky San Marino watched the proceedings patiently. He was there because Terry and Char had asked him to be. Micky was as much an observer as the rest of those present.
“Smedley, bring up a holo of Benitus Seven,” TH requested. The planet appeared and rotated slowly above the table. It was mostly green, comprised of eighty percent land and twenty percent water. The equator was arid and scorched, while the habitable zones ranged north and south from the desert belt. The poles were cool, but not frozen.
Terry pointed at the equator. “Red and hornies are coming through the interdimensional portal somewhere in there—right in the middle of the hot zone.”
“Benitus has a hell, and the devils found their way to it,” Char said.
“Looks like.” Terry nodded and turned to Marcie. “Assets?”
“Firepower,” Marcie said, nodding to her husband.
Kae stood. “Sixteen fully operational suits formed into four combat teams. No other heavy firepower. The enemy has no mechanical assets.”
Terry pointed to himself.
“The only one in here who will get a suit is me.” Kae pointed at Marcie. “According to the colonel you—” Kae waved his arm to indicate the rest of the room. “have separate missions, but the mechs will handle the heavy lifting. There is no doubt about that.”
Terry’s face fell as Kae sat down and Char leaned close.
“You knew you weren’t getting one. You’ll be the last to get one, by your own order,” she whispered.
Price of Freedom: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 3) Page 4
